Story cover for WHISPER by RUSSELL_MYERS
WHISPER
  • WpView
    Reads 150
  • WpVote
    Votes 3
  • WpPart
    Parts 2
  • WpHistory
    Time 8m
  • WpView
    Reads 150
  • WpVote
    Votes 3
  • WpPart
    Parts 2
  • WpHistory
    Time 8m
Complete, First published Nov 04, 2017
"Chaque jours dans chaque lieux nous attendons qu'elle que pars... dans un bus, aux détour d'un couloir... Nous entendront des chose... souvent, c'est chose sont peux intéressante... est là on tend l'oreille est on pars dans des histoire... beaucoup moins conventionnel."

"Each day, in each location we are waiting somewhere..  in a bus, at the end of a corridor... 
We'll hear things... usually uninteresting... Then, we focus, and we are taken in a story... far less conventional."
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Familiarity by whitmar2020
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I walked on the nearly empty bus in New York City, which was very rare. It was the middle of the night and this was the last train going around the tracks. It was only me in the car for a few stops. I was hiding my face with a hoodie. I had my headphones in when he walked in. I looked up and our eyes met. He looked familiar and I quickly looked away. He's probably a fan and followed me. I probably met him at a meet and greet, at least that's what I thought. I felt a presence next to me and looked up to see the green/blue eyes that were so familiar. I took one of my earbuds out. "Hi?" I asked. "Hey. If you don't mind me asking, but where are you from?" He asked. "Let me know your name first." I said still cautious. I paused my music and wrapped the earbuds around my phone and put it in my pocket. "Denzel Weller." He said holding out his hand. "Rose Pitcher." I told him taking his hand. He looked so familiar. His name tried to break through a wall in my memories. I looked around us to see that there was one person left on the train besides us. I took my hood off revealing my turquoise hair. I just got it done and that's what I'm going to my hotel from. "So, where are you from?" He asked me. "We say where we're from at the same time." I told him. He nodded. "1.....2.......3!" I said. "LA." We said at the same time. I looked at him surprised. I took a closer look at him. He looked like he was around the same age as me, 21-22. I studied his features. He had smaller than average ears, an average sized nose, a strong jaw line, short medium brown hair, and then his eyes. I stared into his eyes and saw that they held familiarity.
Maybe Us. (Vance Hopper x FEM! Reader) by heorri
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You had been attending the same school for over 15 years, obviously because you were born in the small town in North Carolina. You were living a pretty normal life, till all of the abductions started happening in 1977. But lets go back a bit. Lets go back to the year 1976. You had been on a night shift on November 18th, 1976. There were many more people than your previous shift. Really the only people there were dropouts, druggies, drug dealers, freaks, and alcoholics. All around the ages 14-22. Everybody was pretty chill with eachother, except for a few people, but that was just the minority. You had been zoned out while staring at the clock, then suddenly heard a DING! Some kid wanted to buy some cigarettes again. You looked at him and he said "Jesus kid, you in a mental insitute or something? Snap out of it." you ringed him up after he asked you for a pack of camels, and then looked at a familiar guy playing pinball. The same blonde that got over 100,000 his last time he came. Everybody started hyping him up, so he's trying to beat 100,000. You remember the mess you had to clean up after some kid accidently knocked over a bunch of beer. You like to not think about how it ruined your favorite pair of shoes. He messed up again, and kicked the machine. You yelled out to him "That thing costs money you know." then he looked at you. His face almost looked angelic. But he had been the jerk of your highschool, so he couldn't be that angelic. He looked away and picked at his pockets. He pulled out nothing. He started walking up to you and started asking for a dime. "Come on, I feed you guys this money all the damn time. Plus you will just get it back." "Then maybe don't waste all your money on pinball. We've gained around $200 with you coming here almost everyday. Thanks for that." and then you smiled while picking up your book. He looked at you in anger, then you looked back up at him. He looked like he was in a bad mood. "Here's a dime." you said handing him a dime.
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"Taira. Taira, listen to me. You can't just took something that isn't yours, especially from nature. Especially not while an unknown girl is watching you." "...Why not?" "Taira, there's only one explanation for your sudden color blindness: you're cursed big time." - "Hey, you're not allowed here." A voice said. She did not reply. "Miss, this is a guy's dorm, what are you doing here," said another voice. - " He has got eyes the colour of honey. These eyes, they glare a lot. It shone a glorious brown and look like caramel coated with honey under the sun rays. When these eyes are directed at you, you just can't look away. In crowds, these eyes roll a lot. I don't think he likes crowds very much. " - " It has always been about your voice. One I cannot describe. It have just this nice undertone and slight shiver in it, that make me love hearing your voice. Over and over and over again. I will not get tired of your voice. That shiver in your voice is my symphony, calming me and claiming my attention. That voice that which churns my stomach just listening to your voice calling my name. " - "Why thank you, I can't help but notice this is some sort of compliment, albeit not nearly clear as any other compliment." She acknowledged. "Don't flatter yourself too much. That is merely a fact and a statement." He said, platonically. . . . . // A series of short stories that may or may not be associated with colours. // Unrelated short stories in every title.
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